A Wizards Game
by Ladylamentana
Summary: When Ron Weasley is transported to Kings Landing he has nothing but his magic, can this master chess player succeed at a different kind of game? - post Order of the Pheonix Ron. Season 1
1. A New Game

**DISCLAIMER- I Own nothing of A Song of Ice And Fire or Harry Potter**

**blurb: When Ron Weasley is transported to Kings Landing he has nothing but his magic, can this master chess player succeed at a different kind of game? - post order of the Pheonix Ron. season 1**

**Chapter 1**

Confounded and loopy, Ron Weasley was in great pain, wandering aimlessly around a dark room full of flashing lights. His arms hurt the worst but his head was also splitting and the poor boy just wanted to go home. It was loud in the room and full of people screaming but Ron really didn't care, he was just trying to find the exit.

The redhead bumped into a great arch which didn't do anything for his headache and annoyed he stomped through. Bad Idea.

Instantly his head cleared and the world swirled around him. The pain in his arms increased, he glanced down to see swirly stripes darken and scar.  
Desperately he tried every spell he knew that could be in any way useful and in despair, a few useless herbology spells just in case.

Nothing worked, the colourful rainbow lights around him remained. He felt he was there for hours and just when he decided to succumb to the hopeless insanity of the situation the world flashed and he was horizontal, hitting hard, packed dirt with the side of his head like he had touched a portkey.

Ron rested there for a moment catching his breath and mentally dealing with the insane situation.

After spending so many years with Harry Potter as his friend, Ron was more equipped to deal with strange and random occurrences. He looked up at the sky and discovered it was day, checked his pockets to find a cauldron cake, 2 sickles, 4 knuts and, thankfully, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. Standing up, Ron brushed himself off and realised above all else he was hot. He shedded his cloak over his arm and began following a nearby path.

After 10 minutes of walking, Ron began to get worried. Death Eaters were attacking his friends and he went MIA. Paranoia rushed through him, imagining the deaths of his friends and sister by all possible methods.  
That was when a traveller came into his vision.  
He yelled out in desperation and began running at them.

"Excuse me, Sir? Can you tell me where I am?", he called as he got closer to the scruffy man. His trousers were strangely loose around the crotch and the threads tying up his clothes were thick and frayed. The whole ensemble made the man resemble a medieval peasant more than a regular muggle or wizard.

"I am clearly no fucking Ser, boy. I don't need your disrespect!", The anger in his voice threw Ron, obviously this man was homeless or a hermit and ashamed of it. His slight frame attested to the small amount of food he was receiving and ron instantly felt sorry for him.

"O - oh, I'm sorry I'm just very lost. Could you tell me where we are?"

"A short walk from Kings Landing. It's that way", he pointed, then glanced at the Gryffindor Crest on Ron's jumper. the man's face turned sour, he spat on the ground then stormed off into the woods, muttering about 'Lannisters' the whole time.  
Thrown by the whole encounter Ron carried on walking but at a faster pace.  
just as the man said the wood soon thinned and he caught a glimpse of one of the most majestic castles he had ever seen. The fortress couldn't hold a candle to Hogwarts of course but it was still pretty. The small city around it also added to the image however the greatest reduction was definitely the smell.

The oder of dung rose from the area strongly making Ron a feel a little ill. while walking closer to the city gates, Ron also noticed the low quality state of all the buildings. The red-heads own unbalances mismatched house seem a clear sight greater than any of these precarious structures at the head of the city. Noticing the more of the people Ron began to get nervous. No one looked right. Women's dresses reached the floor and they all seemed to be wearing corsets. Men, however, all had the same strange trousers and were wearing what looked like tunics instead of shirts or robes. More scarily, plenty of people had swords or daggers at their hips.

Tense, Ron approached a safe-looking woman. "Excuse me miss? Could you tell me what day it is? "

"Day 4 2nd moon, milord", The fuck?!

"Sorry and the year? I've been completely out of it lately." At that, the woman frowned and looked at him strangely.

"298, milord."

Nodding Ron thanked her, plain ignoring the 'lord' comments and leant against a nearby tree. His eyes started tearing up and he began shaking. He had Time travelled.

**Author's Note: First Story so it may be a bit rough.**


	2. Kings Landing

**Disclaimer- I own Nothing**

Ron Weasley was crying against that tree for 10 minutes before he realised he was getting hungry. The sky was still blue and the sun was still high but he hadn't slept since the morning the day before so he was fairly tired as well. This was when he realised that he needed to get a grip and deal with his situation.

It's known that wizards cannot travel through time without the use of a time-turner and Ron was nowhere near the skilled wizard needed for that kind of magic. It was hopeless, he had no way of getting home. Then and there, by that tree, Ron gave up on finding his way home - It simply wasn't possible and he wasn't going to lie to himself.

This place would have to become Ron's home.

He began walking again, wiping his eyes and striding with more purpose. The Gryffindor came up to the city gates and guards glanced at his clothes and quickly nodded him through. Looking at his clothes and at the people around him , Ron felt decidedly out of place with it all and decided to replace his cloak to hide his uniform from curious eyes.

Performing a quick _tempus_ Ron discovered it was 11AM. He had all day to find food and a bed.

The young Wizard thought for a while about his methods to make money, and then remembered that in this time there was no Ministry of Magic. There were no laws on magic at all, which meant he could use it on who, what and wherever he wanted.

Without really thinking, Ron walked up to a nearby house and knocked on the door.

It opened to a wizened woman.

"Hello Madam, my name is Ron Weasley and i am a professional furniture repairer. By any chance to you have any household items that need a good fix?" he said brightly

"No boy, get out of here, you aren't touching my stuff" she said gruffly and slammed the door in Ronald's face.

Taken aback by the rudeness of it all Ron reevaluated. Then another pang of hunger shot through his body and he decided to keep walking until he found a food vendor.

The cobbled streets of kings landing were littered with animal carcasses, shit and piss. Overall Ron was disgusted but he kept on walking. Walking up to a bakers Ron stared at his shiny coins for a moment, the proud gringotts logo standing out. This wouldn't do.

This didn't feel right but he was getting desperate. He stepped into an alley and confounded the first person who walked past him. A happy grin spread across the young man's face and he asked him for his money. Holding the copper coin in his hand, Ron turned his focus back to his knuts and took out his wand. The young wizard focussed hard and transfigured the surface of his coins to look like the copper one. Sitting the man down, Ron walked back into the bakery and bought a small loaf with a coin.

Ron had never felt so alone in his life as when he was eating that dry bread, the sun beating down on him and the smell of dung around him ruining his appetite. He had no one. That was when he noticed all the beggars on the street. It made sense that the world was more poverty stricken in this time but it was no less jarring to see small children on the street, bone thin and begging for food.

One particular gaunt looking girl was chasing birds around, but wasn't nearly as fast as the winged creatures, her long hair was tangled and she looked as if she hadn't slept in ages. Taking pity on her he slowly approached.

"Excuse me? You sure look hungry. Would you like a coin or two to buy some bread?"

"Yes!", she answered back quickly, then squinted at him, "why would you do that?"

"I don't think young children should be hungry, but don't be too loud, i don't have enough for everyone here". That seemed to pacify her and she took one of Ron's knuts a bought some bread. He had to be careful, he only had 2 knuts and 2 sickles left.

Once again purpose rushed through Ron and he began striding again until he felt a tug on his cloak. It was the little girl again.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh- I need to make some money so I can get a bed tonight. Ain't no rest for the weary right?", he let out an awkward little laugh and tried getting away again, only for his cloak to be tugged back by a surprisingly strong grip. This was getting annoying.

"I can help you! I'm skilled! I know the area and everything. Please!", she reminded him of his sister, small, firey and desperate to prove herself. That his excuse for taking pity on her.

"Oh alright then, come on! So tell me, where do I go if I want to set up a business?"

"Well, this is the street of flour, for bakers you know? There's the street of silk, steel and seeds-"

"A street just for seeds?"

"No that's more of a general one. Lots of brothels and inns."

"Brothels?!"

"Yeah, you've never been? I'm surprised, most boys your age have taken that trip by now.", Ron coughed. He was uncomfortable with this little girl telling him all this. This old world loses innocence at a young age obviously.

"Anyway,"he said trying to move on the subject, "I would like to start a reparation business or something like that. I'm good with my hands you know?", or reparo is an easy spell.

"I suppose the Street of Steel then?," she said a bit unsure, "That's where all the craftmen go. My Names Ar- Aya by the way"

"Ron, Ron Weasley. Let's go then, no time like the present! Lead the way Aya!"


	3. What a Mess

**After only a day I've already recieved so much support from people. Thank you all of you! As always, I Own Nothing.**

"So do you have a plan on how you're going to start a business?"

"Not really, I didn't mean to come here so I'm  
not prepared.", Ron didn't really want to think about why he came here. Selling his magic as a service still seemed like the easiest way to earn a living. With the ease of a _scourgify_, ron could clean what only hours of scrubbing could accomplish.

"how about I set up a stall?" He would need wood, " look, Aya do you mind if we take a short trip outside the city walls to collect supplies and water?", She tensed up at that, eyes darting around.

"Uh, you can sure. I'm not sure if I want to leave the city, I can try getting food or something here while you do that? Meet you at the bakery in maybe 2 hours? Good!" she said very quickly and then rushed off.  
That alliance was short-lived Ron thought. He took the trip outside city limits and reached a tree. When no was looking he pulled out his wand and performed _diffindo_ on several branches, cutting through them easily. They were really heavy so he tried charming them featherlight, and it did work a little but they were still too bulky to be easily held. However transfiguration is easy when a wizard is not changing the base material of the object, and even then McGonagall had trained him well so Ron did not find any trouble in transfiguring his logs into planks.

Holding the planks under his arms, Ron made his way back into the city, once again nodding at the guards who were beginning to look suspiciously at him. He decided to not walk through those gates again for a while, the last thing Ron wanted was for suspicions to be raised about him.

Walking to the Flour Street again Aya appeared by his side.  
"Bloody Hell! Where'd you come from, I thought you'd run off. Oh-Well, I have some wood for a stall, let's go!"

Ron was trying to stay happy and optimistic but it was beginning to get hard. Not only had he lost all he held dear but everyone in this city who wasn't the street rat he'd picked up had been really rude to him. Everyone around him was thin and short from malnourishment, sick and smelling terrible. No wonder that lady called him a lord. He's the only one here with clean well-made clothes. It was all very depressing and Ron never dealt well in depressing situations.

It was stupid thinking he could build a stall a sell the promise he could fix things, people probably wouldn't trust him with their broken things in case he stole them. He ended up selling the planks of wood he had made for a few silver and bought him and Aya a room at a cheap and seedy inn. At one point she went out to relieve herself and Ron spent the whole time shooting _reparo _and_ scourgify_ around the room to fix and clean it. Pretty soon it looked like a new room which he found hard to explain to Aya. he had made money from the quality looking planks he produced but that was lucky and irregular. What Ron really needed was a plan or a steady job.

the castle was calling to him for some reason. He could have an easy life there as a servant. Cleaning with magic and relaxing the rest of the time. God knows Ron didn't handle a heavy workload very well. He needed to decide soon. Money makes the world go round and as usual, he has none.

For now, Ron just prepared himself in the small bed he'd be sharing with the tiny Aya. On her way back into the room he could tell she was hiding an object from him and made it known.

"What's that?"

"Oh, this? Nothing just an old gift from my brother," all Ron saw was a flash of metal before she trapped the object beneath some blankets. She glanced around afterwards incredulously, "did you clean up?"

"Yeah I didn't want to sleep in a room infested or anything so I just gave it all a quick dust and all that. You have to with places like this." He bent the truth easily enough. It was obviously more than a dust but Aya had no reason to think Ron had lied so didn't think in it too hard.

Taking off his outer robe Ron revealed his school uniform underneath. Ron had been wearing these clothes all day and didn't realise the thin holes that wrapped around his sleeves. They were narrow as spaghetti and matched directly to long scars on his arm Ron didn't remember being there. That was when the memories surfaced.  
Hazy images of battling with his friends at the ministry passed through his head. More strongly were his words "Look, Brains!" Followed by stupid remarks and stupidest if all, 'Accio Brains!' How thick can you get? Of course, Ron had been confounded at the time but that was his fault as well. Perhaps if he had been more vigilant he would still be in 1995.

So caught up was Ron in his memories that he didn't notice Aya, standing a few feet away from him, a thin sword gripped tightly in both hands aimed at the redhead, eyes staring at the crest on his jumper.

"Don't move!" , she cried causing him to lift up his head and subsequently his wand. "How can you be a Lannister? It doesn't make sense! You're poor and kind and ginger!"

"Hey put the fucking sword down, Aya! What the hell is a Lannister? He incredulously wailed in response. That comment seemed to throw her and she let her sword tip fall to the ground.

"How can you not know that? Lannisters basically rule Westeros? She said unbelievingly

Not wanting to show his gaps in knowledge such as 'Westeros' Ron tried to play it cool.  
" I know that Aya. But why do you think I'm a Lannister?"  
"You are literally wearing the Lannister Crest on your breast right now. Are those even your clothes or did you steal them?" she squinted at him accusingly.

Ron could feel his ears getting hot "No", he said feeling a little trapped. "I bought my this", he pointed at the jumper, "I just didn't know it was a Lannister crest". This wasn't going well for Ron, so he turned it on her.  
"Where did you get a sword from anyway? Not like they're handing them out to every street rat that enters the city!"

"Like I said it was a gift from my brother!" She seemed to be getting frustrated. Face red and fists clenched she added, " I don't need this. I don't need you! And I certainly don't need to take this from you. You're the weirdo who's walking around the city, staring at the common folk as if you've never seen one before. Did your father kick you out of your castle? Your family don't want you anymore?" She was really defensive and beginning to become mocking. The family comment struck a chord with Ron and he threw his hands up.

"Well, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to! You can fuck right off for all I care!" His finger was stuck in her face and his teeth were gritted.

Suddenly, the door shook from a heavy fist bashing it. "Shut it in their you selfish pricks. We're all trying to sleep!"

That shook the two hot-heads out of their rage. Aya was staring at Ron, tense and seemingly afraid to move. "Look, Ron, I don't really have anywhere to go. How about you and I just avoid talking about our past. Let's just try and survive this world."  
That seemed like the best way Ron had out from this conversation so he just gave a sharp nod of agreement. It slightly scared him to be sleeping in the same room as this crazy little girl who seemed willing to swing a sword at him, but In fear of agitating her more, Ron stayed silent

He just got into bed, his shredded sleeves ruffling around his arms, and thought about tomorrow. He needed a plan otherwise he wouldn't survive this volatile world he landed himself into.

**Please Review**

**Please Review**


	4. The Daily Grind

**I do not own Harry Potter, Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire.**

Ron woke up groggy and with an ache all over. His room smelled of shit and there were little spikes digging into his back. He reached back and pulled out a long piece of straw from his bedding. That's when it all rushed back.

He was trapped forever in the past.

A small force rocked him from his left, followed by a high-pitched groan. 'Oh yeah' he thought. 'and I have a new sister to feed'. That thought caused a wave of sadness to rush through him, his eyes pricking with tears. Sniffing roughly and hopping off the bed, Ronald Weasley began planning his new life.

Firstly, he would need a new past. He couldn't present himself as 'common folk'. He could read, even his rough, southern accent seemed posh compared to the lower-class people.

Without the parentage of a lord, Ron would have to present himself as having wealthy, yet ignoble parents, who proceeded to abandon him with skills yet no money. Annoyingly, it's not a very respectable beginning but it seemed the best he had.

At Hogwarts people would sometimes debate the best way to make it in the muggle world without the use of their magic. Repeatedly the best solutions seemed to be service jobs. Cleaning is easy with _sourgify_ or _tergeo_, and transfiguration allows wizards to create whatever their imagination allows them to. By selling these skills to muggles one could potentially make a fortune. Hence Ron's initial idea of a reparations business. Once again brash and without thought, Ron charged into the situation and got rejected and now Aya thinks he's entrepreneur.

Other ideas by Hogwarts student were a bit less friendly. Many decided it would be easiest to lie, _confundo_ and even _imperio_ to get easy money and power. Ron wasn't one of these people, the Weasleys had raised him to be honest, and tricking muggles was practically taboo in their household.

_Accio _was very useful when it came to grabbing your own things even from far away, however in a world without magic it was completely impractical. Ron could summon coins and from far and wide little pices of metal would start flying out of peoples pockets, through the sky, creating a probably beautiful yet incriminating spectacle. Let alone the fact he may be taking the money from the poor and starving, it was far too obvious to have objects flying through the air

Ron decided against repairing things. He didn't handle rejection well and one bad day of offering his skills repulsed him to the idea entirely. A new plan was forming in his head.

After doing chores without magic for years, the idea of being paid for the opposite was very appealing. Besides everyone knows the servants and staff are the sources of gossip in companies and if anyone needs to hear more gossip right now it's Ron. Determined not to waste time Ron begrudgingly cast a _reparo_ on his sleeves, the fabric stretching over the thin tears, leaving the material looking stretched. Ron had wanted to avoid that. _Terego_ all over left his uniform looking clean and fresh, the shiny red lining of his robes practically sparkling. He wasn't willing to remove his house crest in any way, too sentimental, so Ron cast a notice-me-not charm on it and moved on.

Glancing at Aya, still asleep he wondered what to do with her. He grabbed some straw out of his 'pillow' and spent some time transfiguring it. First to wood, then he moulded it magically into a dragon shape (similar to Norberta) and lastly made it gleam. He repeated this process until he made 5.

After a little nudging, Aya stirred and yawned loudly. Glancing up at him she frowned. "Why did you wake me", Aya complained," it's too early." She rolled back over onto her front and sighed.

Sighing himself Ron simply said. "I'm going out, gonna try and find some work." Internally the young wizard thought it was a weird thing to say. A sentence he didn't think he'd have to say for years.

"Look I've made these figurines. Why don't you try to sell them today? They're probably worth a copper or two each. I'll buy us this room for another night and meet you back here later?"

The young girl had rolled back and was staring at the dragons. "You made these this morning? They're incredible!"

Ron blushed. His magic ability had never been praised so passionately before. "Well, I did say I was good with my hands. See you later." He waved and left the room. He hoped selling those would fill her day. Meanwhile, he would go to the castle.

The Red Keep was massive. Its walls high and its bricks ornate it looked like an exotic Hogwarts. Walking to the outer gates and eyeing the guards the redhead decided just to act as if he owned the place and approached them.

"Excuse me, Sir? Do you know where I ca—?"

"Go on through, boy,"

Surprised by the ease of that entry, Ron walked through the clean cobbled path and up the high steps leading up to the building itself. Nearing what Ron assumed to be the real front gates of the castle, he noticed a stressed-out man with a scroll of parchment at the ornate doors. When their eyes met the man plastered a charming smile onto his face.

"Welcome, my lord, to The Red Keep. how can I be of service?"

Although Ron was tempted to go along with the whole 'lord' charade but decided that the long term it wouldn't end well.

"Oh no, no. I'm not a lord, I don't need your honour. Actually, I would like to be of service to you. I am skilled at serving as was hoping you will employ me as a servant. My name's Ronald Weasley" he put on his best Lucius Malfoy voice

"Oh!" He seemed honestly surprised. "I suppose we might have space for you. Rorros! New servant for you. Give him some work." turning back to me he added," come to me at the end of the day and I'll pay you, my name is Taegen. NEXT!" he ended in a yell

* * *

What followed was an hour of administration with Rorros, a man who seemed could read but not incredibly well and it was incredibly dull. Then Ron was given a coarse brush and a bucket and was told to scrub the floors of a hall, along with 5 or so other servants.

It was there Ron first heard of Eddard Stark the Traitor. Hand of the King who betrayed the prince after the king's death. A northern brute who cared little for honour considering how much he spouted about it. He sounded like a bad person and to be honest, Ron was happy he was in the dungeons right now, justice had been served.

However, Ron also heard of sweet Lady Sansa, Stark's daughter, who was innocent and beautiful and was very lucky to be marrying the king. Of Arya Stark who escaped the castle in fear of her life, but she was a wild thing so good riddance. Those things he didn't agree with as much.

Ron had to remember this is a time when the patriarchy is everywhere, and women are disrespected constantly. Sansa being lucky for being beautiful and getting married didn't sit well with him. Nor did a rebellious young girl being called wild.

It was all stupid. the smartest, strongest person he knew, Hermione, is a girl. Although he didn't like to admit it his own sister could probably take him in a fight.

His next task was cleaning up the rooms of some lord. He _scourgified_ the walls, fireplace and most regrettably the chamber pot. _Deregeoed _the bed and levitated the corners of the sheets into place. The whole thing took a few minutes. He was expected to spend far longer in the chamber working, so Ron did a little snooping.

He rifled through the draws getting an idea of the styles of the time, embroidery seemed popular. He reached the desk and it was locked, but a simple _alohamora_ easily popped the drawers open.

Inside were stacks of letters. glancing at a couple, the neat script all seemed to be addressed to 'Petyr' and signed 'Lysa'. Ron dropped them as if they were on fire once he read some of the raunchy words scattered across the page. 'Petyr' certainly had an admirer. There were also bags of coins, of which Ron slipped a couple off the top and into his fist.

Shutting the drawer and locking it again, Ron repeated the process to the second drawer. Inside this one was a map which the wizard unfurled and laid out onto the table. Thankfully there was a chair behind him because the poor boy fell back into it in shock. This was _not_ a map of England, or Britain or any other place Ron could recognise. Ron knew maps, his favourite brothers were both avid travellers and Ron has spent much time charting the various places Bill would travel for work. this was not on Earth.

The large words, WESTEROS, was spread across the map. Foreign places and names were scattered across the land mass and Ron felt ill trying to make sense of it all.

Leaving the room in a good condition, Ron spent the rest of the day going about his work simply and thoughtfully. Every now and again, Ron would ask his co-workers on their favourite story from history. Those stories were far more convincing than the map could ever have been. Ron heard stories of Kings that never existed, of creatures he'd never heard of and of dragons. Loads of dragons. Sorcery was mentioned, but it was all superbly inaccurate.

Ron ended his day late, the moon was out, with a few coppers in his hand. looking up at the sky, completely disheartened, the last nail in the coffin was the stars. Ron knew what the stars should look like. he had spent nights of his life staring up at the sky, cataloguing the movement of the stars for his astronomy class. Those were not the stars he knew. This was _not_ Earth.

**A/N**

**Thank you everyone for the support, 2 things**

**I want to make clear that Ron is 16 Years old and just fell through the Veil in the ministry.**

**Also, Arya is hiding so told Ron her name is Aya as a very thin disguise. She did a similar thing with Arry in the show but she's not currently pretending to be a boy so Aya instead.**

**Please Review.**


	5. Baelor

**I own nothing. This chapter will include some paraphrase extract from A Game of Thrones.**

Ron walked into his room in a haze. Aya was there, sword in hand and sweat on her face, she had been practicing he supposed.

"C'mon" he said, "Let's get something to eat." Ron had honestly never been this hungry in his life. At home his mother always made sure every meal was like a feast, and at Hogwarts every meal was one. In the last two days, Ron had eaten a small amount of bread and what looked like gruel, which the castle had provided.

He grabbed her tiny arm and dragged her to the inn below, indulging in some steak pie.

"don't you want to know how much I made today? Twenty coppers! Each dragon sold for four! Isn't that fantastic?" It was more than Ron had thought or what he received today. Quite impressive but Ron wasn't in the mood for it all, he just kept on stuffing his face.

Turns out Ron hadn't just lost his Family, Friends and every one of his physical possessions, Ron had also lost his entire identity. Hogwarts wasn't real here. He couldn't just go to Scotland and live happily around the magical. They didn't exist. Hell, the muggles here were aware of magic, they just thought it was rare or extinct. What was the point of being in this land?

Aya was looking at him still expecting a response. "Well done! Couldn't have done it better myself."

"But that's just it, Ron, you did do it yourself. I sold what you gave me. You created the dragons."

"Thank you, Aya, I'll make you some more."

"Ron are you okay? You seem out of it."

"I'm fine, could you just eat some food so that we can go to sleep?"

She was staring at him closely now, "You fixed your sleeves? How? There's no thread mark."

"Can you just Shut it! Eat up I'm going to bed." He put down his spoon angrily and rushed to his room. Crawling under the rough, threadbare blanket he tried to sleep. His eyes were welling with tears, Ron had never cried so much in his life than in the past two days, but the boy thought he deserved a few tears.

Ron woke up to an arm shaking him.

"Ron! Somethings happening near Baelor! Come on get up we have to go!"

He didn't argue with her, he just got out of the bed and followed her through crowded streets.

\- **Paraphrased Extract from A Game of Thrones-**

"The King's Hand, Lord Stark, they're carrying him up to Baelor's sept" Voices carried past him.

"I heard he was dead."

"Soon enough, soon enough. Here, I got me a silver stag says they lop his head off."

"past time, the traitor" The man spat.

Ara, next to him cried, "He'd _never_–", but she was only a child and they talked right over her.

"_Fool!_ They ain't neither going to lop him. Since when do they knick traitors on the steps of the Great sept?"

"Well they don't mean to anoint him no knight. I heard it was Stark killed old King Robert. Slit his throat in the woods, and when the found him, he stood there cool as you please and said it was some old boar did for His Grace."

By the time they reached the Street of Sisters, they were packed in shoulder to shoulder. The human current was carrying them along, up to the top of Visenya's Hill. The bells were very loud here.

Ron grabbed Aya and tried to guide her through this humungous mass, but she was growing frantic. Forcing her way through to the front of the crowd, she shoved herself up against the stone of a plinth.

That was when Ron saw him, Lord Eddard Stark.

The man was stood outside the doors of the sept, supported between Two 'Gold Cloaks'. He was dressed in a grey, velvet doublet with an ornate wolf on the front, and a grey, fur-lined cloak was wrapped around his shoulders. He was thinner than Ron had seen in any wealthy person and he wasn't standing so much as being held up; the cast over his leg was grey and rotten.

The High Septon stood behind him, a squat man, grey with age and ponderously fat, wearing long white robes and an immense crown of spun gold and crystal that wreathed his head in rainbows whenever he moved.

Upon the steps was a knot of knights and lords. A blond boy, younger than Ron, stood prominently among them, his clothes all crimson, silk and satin patterned with Stags and Lions, a gold crown on his head. One of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen stood beside him wearing a black and red gown and a veil of black crystals in her hair. Her blonde hair was shining in the sun, her beauty nearly equating to that of the wonderous Fleur Delacour. His attention was then drawn to Fiery Red hair, like his own. A beautiful girl was the only smiling face in the midst of it all, dressed in sky-blue silk, her long auburn hair curled, and shiny.

The bells stopped tolling and Eddard Stark began to speak, his voice thin and weak it was scarcely audible to Ron. People began to shout, "what?" and "louder!" Aya was practically shaking beside him. Amid the tension, Ron had his wand out, its presence relaxing him.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand to the King, and I come before you to confess my treason in the sights of gods and men." Something about all of this seemed incredibly off to Ron. Aya was freaking out, and Eddard seemed mistreated and under duress. He was beginning to re-evaluate the situation. Eddard Stark continued confessing to being a traitor when a stone came soaring out of the crowd. Acting on instinct, Ron cast a levitation on the stone, changing its direction, to hitting the steps just below Eddard's feet.

More stones were thrown but thankfully hit guards and more of the steps. The guards stepped in front of the king and queen, protecting them with their shields.

The High Septon knelt before the king and his mother. "As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in the sight of gods and men, here in this holy place. The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us that they are also merciful. What shall be done with the Traitor, Your Grace?"

There was screaming all around, but Ron focussed on the King's words.

"My mother bids me to let Lord Eddard take the black, and lady Sansa has begged for the mercy of her father." He looked at the beautiful red-headed girl and smiled. That was Sansa Stark then, the beautiful, lucky lady that's marrying the king. All he was thinking was she was far to young to get married.

The King carried on, "But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

**-end-**

The crowd erupted. The lords and ladies were waving at the King, begging. Sansa was on her knees, crying her eyes out. They all stepped aside, and a pale, skinny man stepped through. Aya was wiggling away from him but Ron held on tight. She had drawn her sword, but he didn't budge. Unwilling to let this continue, holding the strong belief that capital punishment is wrong, Ron held up his wand and aimed it at Ser Ilyn.

The knights flung Eddard to the marble, with his head and chest out over the edge.

Ron yelled out, "_Stupify_!". Ser Ilyn dropped to the ground and Aya froze next to him.

"What the fuck!" she yelled.

"_Stupify_!" he called again, this time aimed at the King. The wicked boy joined the knight on the marble ground.

They were coming for him now, _everyone. _He made a beeline for the steps, stunning or repelling anyone who stood in his way. Sword were aimed at him, but he stood at a distance and began picking off the most threatening. Then he was on the steps. All the muggles with swords unconscious. The queen was holding her son, screaming bloody murder.

He cast an _evanesco_ on Lord Eddard's bandages, cast _Episky _which did very little to improve the horrifyingly infected wounds, and replaced them with a simple _Ferula, _conjuring bandages out of nowhere which began wrapping tightly around the man's leg. He grabbed Sansa's hand and levitated the grey clothes of Eddard, bringing him up with them. Ron then sprinted back through the square. The crowd split before him fear in all their eyes. It hurt more than anything else, but he kept going, dragging Sansa along with Ned bobbing up and down through the air behind them.

Reaching a horse and cart tied to post, Ron sent a cutting curse at the rope and put Eddard into the cart.

"Sansa, run! Get out of city limits now! I have to find someone, but I'll meet you out there."

"Thank-you, Ser" Sansa got out, tears still in her eyes but now admiration was there too.

Ron refused to leave Aya, she was all that he knew in this world. "_point-me Aya_" he said clearly and carefully. His wand spun around flat on his palm not pointing in any particular direction. Ron growled angrily. Then he thought for a moment and it was like all the puzzle pieces were coming together. "_point-me Arya Stark!_" And his want turned and pointed to an alleyway nearby the statue Aya, no Arya, was at.

He saw Arya and a man with greasy hair, dressed in black, roughly chopping off her hair with a sharp blade while she wailed beneath him. Anger surged through Ron and he hexed him. Ron hexed him a lot. The mans snot turned into bats which began attacking him, boils grew all over his skin, his teeth grew and wouldn't stop, and he began tickling all over. Seeing justice served, Ron grabbed the crying Arya and dragged her out of the alley, picking up her sword as he went

"Ron!" she cried hugging him. "What was all that? What are you?"

"That doesn't matter for the moment. We have to get out of this city."

Together they ran. His long legs were fast, but Arya didn't seem to have much trouble keeping up.

Within ten minutes they were at the city gates and so were countless guards. The horse and cart with Sansa and her father in was surrounded. Unable to survive attacking a crowd that large Ron decided to go for the scare tactic instead.

"_Sonorus,_" he cast and then continued in a very dramatic voice, "BEGONE ALL OF YOU! MAKE WAY OR YOU SHALL FACE THE WRATHOF MY UNIMAGINABLE POWER!" Instantly the crowd stood aside, shocked and afraid. His voice was magnified louder than anything they had probably ever heard, louder than any crowd or battle cry. Sansa in the centre of it all had her hands over her ears and her head was in her lap. Eddard it seemed had passed out. Ron took Arya by the hand and took her to the cart. She took the reins from Sansa and they all processed out of the city.

An easy escape really.

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	6. The King's Road

**I own nothing. **

Chapter 6

All around him was commotion, but Ron kept a straight face. He could hear bells tolling loudly from the city that was getting further and further away and the soft whimpering of the red-headed beauty just a few feet away from him.

Arya wasted no time. "Ron, what in seven hells was that. What _are_ you?" It was mostly said with curiosity but underneath that was a small bit of disgust. He flinched.

"Aya!" Said Sansa aghast. "He saved our lives you shouldn't be questioning him. "she turned to Ron. "Thank you, my noble ser., You saved my father's life. I am forever in your debt." She bowed her head and stroked her father's. The poor man was still passed out in the back.

Ron was surprised by one thing and he couldn't move past it. He turned to Arya. "So, what's your name then, Aya or Arya."

Sansa blushed and answered for her. "Aya is just what we call her. Her names Arya". Sansa was staring at him now, adoration in her eyes.

Ron was enjoying the attention, he couldn't deny it. The girl was pretty but probably only a second year, so he found it all cute. He decided to play along a bit. "Thank you for your honour, fair lady but I am no knight. I should probably help him." Pointing to the unconscious lord.

"This is going to hurt". he unwrapped the bandages, revealing the horrific wound which seemed to source at the back of his leg, purple wiry lines circling the whole thing.

Ron thought back to the scar on his leg. Sirius Black bit him, tearing at the flesh and. Breaking the bone. He had made such a big deal of it then, trying to impress Hermione, but Pomfrey had fixed it within an hour. Staring at this lord's mutilated leg, Ron felt incredibly guilty. So, he helped him best he could.

Ron cleaned the wound with a _scourgify_, caused the man to groan loudly, but remain asleep. Then, being the only healing spell Ron properly knew, Ron cast _Episkey _after_ Episkey _at the man. The wound shut but the purple remained.

Repeating what Lupin did for him in third year he tapped Eddard's leg with his wand and muttered _Ferula_. Bandages spun up the leg, strapping it tightly to a splint.

Nodding at a job well done he finished with an _ennervate_ at the man. Instantly his eyes shot open. "Wh-wha." He looked to Ron and fear filled his eyes.

"It's okay Mr Stark," Ron tried to be calming, "We're out of the city. You're safe, your daughters are safe."

Eddard looked up at them with immense relief.

"Ron! Can you take the horse for a bit?"

Swapping places with Arya, Ron grabbed the reins and tried Ron focus on the horse and the trail instead of the private scene of happiness behind him.

Well, new identity was down the drain. Obviously, his job at the castle was gone too. It seemed as if he was now living on the run with a family and everybody knows he's a wizard. The bad guys hated him which included the King.

He'd only been in this god-awful world for 3 days and he was already undesirable no.1.

"Are you a Tully boy? Sent to save us?" There was hope in the lord's voice.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what a Tully is. I'm a wizard," there was no point in hiding it any more, the red-headed girl had seen her father's leg practically sew itself back together.

"Oh," the lord seemed confused. "Magic? I haven't believed in all that since I was a green boy. The Starks are in your debt."

"Thats what I said father" said Sansa excitedly. Then more morosely, "I'm sorry I made you confess to crimes you did not commit. I thought it was the only way you would survive"

"Aye my child. You did what you thought best. The Lannisters are cruel people with no care for honour. The burden of my capture lies on my shoulders not yours. I bargained with the queen and my family has paid the price. What's your name?"

"Ron. So currently we're just riding away from Kings Landing. Any direction you would prefer?"

"North", he replied without delay. "It's where we are all safest."

Want flat on his hand again, Ron performed _point-me _and slightly adjusted the direction of travel.

"Alright. It's going to be a long journey."

* * *

*Meanwhile in Kings Landing*

"I want that ginger freak's head!" bellowed Cersei Lannister to her Small Council. "Varys! Who is he?"

The beautiful woman's teeth were gritted, and nails were digging into the edge of the table.

"I'm afraid the young man's a mystery, Your Grace," the Spyder replied, "my little birds learned he entered the city for the first time just a few days ago. Just yesterday he took a job as a servant at this castle, asking all the other servants their opinions on the recent gossip. His skills remained a mystery to everyone."

"skills? He took out the king's guard without batting an eye! Black magic I tell you! I've heard of such magicks at the citadel." Grumbled old maester Pycelle.

"I don't care, Grand Maester. That fucking abomination attacked our king. Thankfully Joffrey recovered without fault, our king is strong enough to overcome even the most powerful of attacks, but this 'Ronald Weasley' is a traitor to the crown and should be publicly announced as such". The queen ground out.

"Your Grace, it shall be known across the realm that Ronald Weasley is a traitor to the crown and a danger to all." Spoke Baelish in his soft voice," How shall we deal with the escape of Ned Stark?"

"I shall send out patrols to search the land." Replied Ser Barristan The Bold.

"Unfortunately we do not have all of the usual resources to spare on finding Ned Stark. Renly and Stannis Baratheon have both stated their claim to the throne and are building armies as we speak. Robb Stark has not yet lost a battle against Lord Tywin and my little birds have also caught wind that they've captured Ser Jaime." Cersei seemed to deflate at that news

"Oh why. Why can we be spared this torture. And what claim does Renly have to the throne anyway? He's the third Baratheon son."

"I've caught word that he has married the Tyrells and now has the strength of the Reach and the Stormlands at his back. Thankfully the Vale and Dorne have announced their neutrality." Replied Varys solemnly.

Cersei sighed tiredly, taking a large gulp of wine "The world really has gone to shit hasn't it?"

* * *

After a few flicks of his wand, Ron and all the Starks looked clean, fresh, and completely unsuspicious. They entered one of the few inns they had passed and gave up the last of their coin for a night. They had been riding for days and only just recently passed through Lord Harroway's Town. Ron had never travelled so slowly in his life, he needed speed in his life. If he had his broom Ron would have reached the Riverland days ago. Before his time in Westeros, the longest journey Ron had ever been on was the Hogwarts express. He was losing his mind, and his company wasn't helping either. Ned Stark, as he has been asked to be called,

Ron and Ned just didn't click. Ron enjoyed a good loud conversation or debate and Ned was a quiet man who spent his time in quiet contemplation. Ron was surprised he could give birth to two great conversationalists.

A few times the group had been stopped by Lannister soldiers. Twice they had been able to bluff themselves out of confrontation, but they were a very distinctive group so more than one, Ron cast a _confundus _and they were on their way.

Since then Ron thought it best to don some disguises. Human transfiguration being famously difficult and set to learn in 6th year transfiguration, Ron was not entirely confident on his ability to perform it, but with the fear of capture in his mind, Ron was determined to figure it out. During the long hours of the day, when the cart would bump up and down over the uneven surface of the road, Ron would sit quietly, a strong grip of his hair holding it straight in front of his eyes, Ron would perform colour changing spells on his red locks.

For a long while his hair refused to change. Aya's dark locks in front of his eyes on his mind he persevered. The first time it changed it went green, a few minutes of casting later it became streaked with blue.

"A beautiful colour, really." Snarked Arya, "The blue goes wonderfully with your eyes."

"Shut up." Snapped Ron. Losing concentration mid-spell, the lock of hair fell out. "Bloody hell! Thanks, Arya, I really needed that." Rubbing the area of his head that now looked like a receding hairline, Ron's ears went red in embarrassment. "look okay, I have never done human transfiguration and I thought I would test out on me before I tried changing your hair but you know, your hair is so ghastly anyway I might as well try on you." Determined to find a way to fix his hair, Ron turned his attention to the girl who caused his loss of concentration in the first place, a scary look in his eyes.

"No! Don't touch my hair with your magic!"

"Oh, please Arya it's not like he could make it worse. half of it's gone chopped up anyway so if the rest falls out it may actually be an improvement." Added Sansa

"Exactly! So, sit here in front of me." Wand out, with a much better view of the hair to change, Ron felt new confidence.

The young wizard imagined Fleur Delacour, the French beauty that filled his mind oftentimes since he'd met her. Her flowing golden locks were such a pretty colour, very easy to remember. Casting the spell on Arya's head failed a few more times, but the 5th time a warm light covered her head, from the place on her hair where his wand was rested, the same golden of Fleur's head was spread across Arya's.

"Yes!" Ron yelled, "Finally!"

"She's blonde!" Sansa got out.

"Your turn, Sansa. We all need a disguise."

After that they all became blonde, not that anyone was pleased with it. Anytime a soldier would question them, Ron would just flash his Gryffindor crest and they would be on their way

It was the most fun Ron had on the whole journey and, considering most of it was in silence, that was a saddening thought.

Eating his pie, bored, a woman walked up to the table they were at.

"Excuse me", she spoke in a strange, sultry accent, "My name is Melisandre, Sorcerer. I saw you in the flames."

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	7. The Flames

**I own nothing. **

Chapter 7

"I saw you in the flames"

Glancing up at the strange statement Ron got a good look at the woman. She was undeniably beautiful but felt almost unnaturally so. Ron felt drawn to her in the same way as a veela, only he had no wish to remove his shirt and flex his muscles.

Above all else she _felt magical, _the ruby around her neck felt warm and strong to Ron. It was refreshing to Ron, uplifting almost. But her read eyes reminded him uncomfortably of Harry's description of You Know Who, and when he looked directly into them, he felt a chill run up his spine.

"My lady, do I know you?" She knelt before him

"My lord, I have travelled far from distant lands. The lord of light has blessed me and lead me to you. I will devote myself to your cause, as the mighty R'hllor has guided me to." Ron would have been sceptical. On a normal Tuesday he would see this strange red woman and know something was off with he, he'd be wary.

However, this was not a normal Tuesday. Ron didn't know what day it was, he'd lost track. He was tired of this mundane world where they wielded swords instead of wand Ron had been surrounded by mean people or people scared of the power he possessed, this woman however, she wanted to _serve_ him. He felt confidence fill his body and a grin spread across his face.

"You've heard of my power, then? Well I can't deny you are powerful yourself. What do you mean 'you saw me in the flames'? Divination?"

"I am unsure what you mean my lord. The Lord of Light has shown me your power." She said again serenely. Ron was getting a bit tired of it all.

"Lord of Light?" Arya cut in, "I've never heard of that."

"A god of light and love and joy, and a god of darkness, evil, and fear, eternally at war. R'hllor is the god of fire, which provides light, heat, and life, and struggles against darkness, cold, and death, represented by an opposing deity, the Great Other." She recited patiently

"The Other? You mean li-"

"Arya. that religion is from across the narrow sea. Our way is the old way." Interrupted Ned.

"Well I know that, father, I'm just curious. Besides Others? That's northern!"

"Others are myths. Myths can travel across lands and have unknown sources. Just because they are wide spread does not mean they are true."

"My Lord the Great Other is real. He lives beyond the wall and is building an army of the dead."

"Is she serious?" Sansa Added.

"I don't want my daughters listening to this anymore. Leave, witch."

Ron's mind was whirring. He didn't know what to think. Ron didn't believe in religion, it all seemed to be based in magic. Ron _did_ believe in dead armies. Hell, he learned about them at school. Zombies, skeletons, inferi, they had all been used in armies by villainous wizards throughout time. He was in a different time now though; would that mean armies of the dead aren't possible? This woman who was now staring him down hard, her red eyes seeming to boar into him, she was magic. He could sense it off her, and she had seen him in the flames. Ned had stood now, his hand on Melisandre's shoulder.

"Wait!" cried Ron, Melisandre's serene smile seemed to stretch a bit wider across her face. "I, uh, I don't think we should be so hasty in saying no to her, I mean, if she's right then we should definitely be cautious, right? We don't want an army of the dead attacking us!" Ron's voice was pitching higher and higher as he thought of it all. He was getting stressed out, Ron really wasn't used to being the one to make decisions all the time.

"The Others have been dead for thousands of years if they even did exist." Ground out Ned in frustration.

"Look man, I'm just saying, I have magic, it's possible that some other creature has magic and is making some zombies with it."

"Zombies?" muttered Sansa quietly to herself.

"I am a Lord and you will address me as such!" Spoke Ned quite loudly. Loud enough for the people at the nearest table to snicker and guffaw.

"_Lord? _ HA, if you're a lord I'm the bloody Mountain!" slurred out a scrawny, red-faced man.

Ignoring them Ned stood up, gripping the table to support his weak leg.

"We are wasting time. Eat up girls, we're going back on the road. Ron, bring the woman if you like but I will not have her trying to spread her religion to my daughters."

So, they journeyed on. Without money they had to fend for themselves in the wild of the forest. Arya was the best at it, her agile hands being able to catch birds without a trap, Sansa was the worst, her skillset not really being in the physical area. Melisandre remained fairly quiet most of the time, but during the evening when they would sit around camp fires, Melisandre would stare endlessly into the flame. Ron tried to join her one time, remembering having done something similar in divination class, although he and Harry never sincerely tried to see anything in the flames, lies were far easier. This time when Ron tried all he got was blindness for a few moments and hurt eyes.

Melisandre shook her head at him.

"You are trying to see something in the flames. If the Lord of Light has something to show you then you will see it, don't try so hard."

The journey carried on in this way, however Ron seemed to find this leg far more manageable than the last. The only explanation was the presence of Melisandre. They would talk to each other about magic and the future and fire, Melisandre really spoke a lot about fire. Her expression changed to one of almost happiness when Ron showed her _incendio_. He would chat with the starks as well, Ned becoming friendlier with him as time went on.

When they were cold, Ron gave them fire. When they were thirsty Ron gave them water. All the people around him really depended on him and appreciated him and Ron _lived_ off it. He felt important and wanted more than he had ever been in his old life.

Some nights Ron would lie awake wondering what the world was like at Hogwarts these days. Was Harry spending his summer unhappy and with the Dursleys or was he with Sirius, happy to be with his family?

Did his friends even survive the attack by the Death eaters, would Ron have dies along with them if he had stayed?

Was Hermione spending another summer in the company of Viktor Krum?

Did his family miss him? Think he was dead? Did they forget about him quickly and enjoy the new empty bedroom in the house? Did anyone miss him at all?

Ron drove himself crazy on nights like those, but every morning he would wake up and forget about it all for a while in the face of survival.

He was good at controlling the horse now, stronger too. The once strong quality of his robes were now thin and feeble beneath his grip, the fabric having been touched by a _reparo _so many times. His trouser legs were too short for his growing legs and Ron was afraid of ruining his trousers completely by transfiguring them long. He had not taken off his clothes for weeks. Countless _scourgifies_ and _deregeos_ had touched his and his companions' clothes and bodies over the last few weeks.

Surprisingly the thing people complained most about on this hard, tiring, cold and hunger-inducing journey was their hair. The Stark girls would not stop going on about their dislike for their new hair colour while their father just quietly nodded along to their complaints. Sansa missed her ginger locks and Arya despised her new Lannister-looking locks. 'but', Ron thought,' At least they are safe.'

It wasn't all work no play either, Ron had fun with the girls, treating them like they were his sisters.

Arya and he would grab long branches and fight each other with them, Eddard occasionally giving pointers on how to improve. One day they were passing a tavern with loud, jolly music coming out of it. Excited Sansa jumped up and begged Ron to be her dancing partner, to which he eventually agreed.

After seeing Sansa's stiff, boring lady-like moves to match her general demeanour, Ron made it his mission to loosen her up. He grabbed her hands and swung her around to the beat of the music, twirling her until she was a giggling mess.

As time went on the Starks were getting more and more excited and Ron could understand why. They were getting closer and closer to Riverrun. The day the beautiful castle came into their eyeline, Sansa squealed with excitement and Arya was grinning from ear to ear. Ned was the happiest Ron had ever seen him, it was very uplifting.

Ron spent that day trying and succeeding to return the initial colours to everyone's hair. That change made it seem as if he had instead cast a cheering charm on the lot of them.

Riverrun was truly a beautiful castle. All yellow brick and spires surrounded by water gave the castle as much of a homely feel that a castle could have. Riding the cart up to the draw bridge, Ned took charge.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. May I be granted entry?"

He opened his cloak to reveal his grey doublet, adorned with a wolf.

"Send message to her lady!" An incredibly loud voice rang out, "Lord Eddard Stark has survived! Lower the bridge!"

With a creak and the noise of moving metal, the draw bridge lowered, and the ragged group of companions made their way into Riverrun.

**Thank you everyone for all the support I've gained for this story**

**As always, Please Review.**


	8. Riverrun

**Author note: Hey guys, sorry this one took so long, school and clubs took over my life for a bit, but I'm hopefully back on track to post regularly again. As always, I own absolutely nothing.**

Crossing over the Drawbridge to Riverrun was an amazing feeling, the rough nights were over. Cheers filled the area, nearly louder than Ron's _sonorous_, feet stomping on the ground shook through the castle and the infectious and overwhelming happiness present in every person yelling, 'NED! NED! NED!' flooded through Ron. A huge grin spread across his face without him realising and Ron joined in with the chant, celebrating the good man he had gotten to know over his journey.

A large door opened in front of them and Ron saw the face of an aged Sansa. Blue eyes, red hair with silver streaks glittering through it, the woman in front of him was stunning. She ran through the courtyard, crying and smiling in equal measure and nearly tackled the man next to her in her delight. He let out a cry of pain and gripped his cane a little harder but wrapped his arms around her tightly and wouldn't let go. Arya and Sansa joined in, crying and laughing, their immense joy apparent.

Ron, feeling a bit out of place, looked around at the area he had found himself in. Two red-headed men stood upon the battlements, proudly staring down at the hugging starks. Banners of a red fish on a blue background were scattered throughout the courtyard, brightening up the brick with bright colours. Suspicious eyes would glance at him from among the crowd but would be overcome by the joy all around.

Another red-head burst through the main doors and all Ron could see from this man was his brother Charlie, the stocky build, bright blue eyes and tan skin all the same in this person. Longing shot through Ron and he felt all alone. The large family of red-haired people around him all hugging reminded Ron of his predicament. His family was gone, and he would never be with them again. He wondered if they would even miss him.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the Lady Stark hugging him tightly. Shocked, Ron froze, his arms like sticks against his body.

"You saved my family, Weasley. You can't understand how much that means to me. Everything you want is yours, nothing is too large an ask." She pulls back, hands on his shoulders and stared him in the eye. "Don't look so scared, you've done absolutely nothing wrong."

"You're the man who saved my father?" the Charlie look alike said, Ron assumed he must be Robb. At Ron's nod the young man laughed and gripped Ron's arm tightly, giving it a slight shake. "You've made a friend out of me then, I'm Robb."

"Ron."

"As heart-warming as this all is," Came the loud voice of the aged red-head on the battlements, "We have a war to wage". The man began to make strong strides into the castle.

"Come on, Blackfish, I think they deserve a bath and a meal before we start that kind of discussion." Robb called out, "Let's have some Rooms and Baths prepared for everyone, new clothes and some food. Before we talk war let's celebrate the lives that have been saved. My Father and sisters have returned!**" **A new cheer filled the courtyard, and everyone began moving into the castle.

* * *

Clean and dressed in the finest, weirdest clothes Ron had ever worn, the young wizard made his way to the banquet hall. When he entered a massive feast had been prepared, up to the standards of the Hogwarts kitchens. Banners hung from all the walls around him, the walls were carved and painted, and every area of space had a statue or tapestry filling it. It was bright and beautiful, and Ron instantly felt in good spirit just being there.

He was guided to a place at the table and the only other people there was 'the Blackfish' and Melisandre. He was ashamed to say he had forgotten about his magical companion in all the reunions but here she was explaining her place with them to the gruff Blackfish.

"Ah 'The Saviour of the Starks' himself. Tell me Weasley, how did you do it?" his beady eyes were staring him down but Ron wasn't intimidated that easily.

"I'm sure a lot of other people will want to know that story, why don't we wait until everyone else is here?"

"Fine."

They sat in silence for a while until Catelyn came in with her son and another boy of a similar age.

"There he is, the man of the hour. Theon, _this_ is Ron Weasley."

"Weasley? Sounds more like the name of a Frey."

"Be nice, Theon.", A grin was on Robb's face at this point, "Ron, may I present Theon Greyjoy, my family's ward."

Robb and Theon sat opposite Ron.

"So, Weasel -"

"Ha! Haven't heard that one before!" quipped Ron

"Where're you from?" continued Theon with gritted teeth.

"A tiny village called Ottery St Catchpole." Replied Ron honestly.

"A Village boy? Well, you've really made something of yourself haven't you."

Before Ron could reply the door opened once again to reveal Sansa, Arya and Ned. Arya looked completely uncomfortable, her half-cropped hair was now neatly cut to just above her shoulders and she was wearing a pretty dress. Sansa next to her glided into the hall like she had trained to her whole life, wearing her dress with considerably more confidence than her sister. Ned just looked like a hero. The man was clean shaven and dressed in finery, a new cane in his hand, one far stronger looking than the one Ron had made for him.

They all took their seats, Ned at on end of the table, a position of honour. Once they were all comfortable everyone began eating. Ron couldn't believe he had held off for so long, as soon as he took his first bite, he was ravenous, piling the food into his mouth. Sansa's tut beside him reminded him of his company and he forced himself to be a bit more careful with his food. Arya didn't seem to care and ate like an animal.

"So, I'm sure you've had an adventurous journey but I'm curious to how you escaped kings landing in the first place. Ned?"

"Oh I was asleep foremost of it. My leg was terribly injured, and my head couldn't handle the pain and stress."

"It was absolutely frightening!" Sansa cut in. "Ron can I tell them everything?" Ron nodded, might as well he thought, they would find out eventually.

"So, the Lannister's had told me they wouldn't kill father if I convinced him to 'confess' to being a traitor. At this point we were all desperate, so it seemed like the best thing. Then when father did lie about being a traitor, Joffrey went against his words and called for his execution. That's when Ron cut through the crowd and hit Ser Ilyn Payne with his magic. Ilyn fell to the ground and then Ron stared hitting everyone with the magic light, allowing us to escape."

This explanation unsurprisingly left only confused silence around the room.

"It's true!" added Arya, trying to be helpful.

"Magic?" replied Catelyn with tight lips and a slight frown.

"Uh yeah I have magical abilities." He took out his wand and performed a simple levitation on the pheasant in front of him.

In the shocked silence Sansa continued, "So he lifted father with his magic and then took him and me away from the sept and into the town where we stole a cart and horse. Then he found Arya in the city and we made our way to the gate. We were met there by an army of gold cloaks and Lannisters, so Ron scared them all by making his voice really loud an threatening them. My ears didn't hear right for a week!

"After that we journeyed north, put on disguises, healed father best we could and just tried to survive. We met Melisandre on the road. We couldn't have done it without Ron, he fixed every mistake I made."

"And we are grateful, Ron." Added Catelyn.

"What the fuck?" Theon let out completely exasperated.

"Theon!"

"No mother, he has a point, what the fuck. Ron, you're a sorcerer?"

"Yes, I was born this way." This was awkward for Ron. No, more than that, this was scary for Ron, there was disgust on peoples faces. He always knew muggles could react to magic in this way but never had he thought he would be on the receiving end of that.

"Like a wood witch? You make concoctions and see the future?"

"Well I'm not really very good with potions, not a natural, and I looked at the fauna situation and the plants here wouldn't really work either. As for prophesies I tried to learn it for a while, still trying really but visions don't come to me like they do with some people.

"No I'm far better at charms and transfiguration. Like, I can repair or summon objects. I can make objects change into whatever shape I want, that sort of thing."

"You can attack people with it?"

"Yeah, and He's really good at it too!" joined in Arya, not really feeling the mood of the table. "Like he can take down any man of any size with one hit. And he healed father's leg!"

"He's powerful," Ned spoke up. "And he deserves our respect."

It was like something shifted in the room. Seven words from Ned stark and people changed what they thought, Ron couldn't believe it. He hadn't seen the influence Ned had before.

"Well let's see some of it then! More than making something float a few inches."

So Ron proceeded to turn an empty chair into a pig, cheers erupted, and so began a happy spree of magic. He made fireworks, made his clothes rainbow coloured, summoned people's belongings from across the castle and in Robb's case, across the country, though that tunic took a good hour to get to Riverrun.

Ron decorated Sansa and Catelyn's dresses with brightly coloured flowers, brighter than any die they could find and both were thrilled. Ron also decorated Theon's clothes with brightly coloured flowers, even adding a few butterflies and cartoonish bunnies to finish the look, Theon was less thrilled. Ron made suits of armour and furniture tap dance for everyone and ever cast a cheering charm on the surly Blackfish making him giggle and cheer like Sansa for the rest of the night.

Ron had never seen anyone celebrate magic in this way. At Hogwarts, casting magic was practice for school or otherwise commonplace. As a final trick, Ron cast his Patronus, summoning up all the happiness he felt in this moment and the white light flooded from his wand, his jack russell terrier bounded out, its paws hitting the air as it ran over people's heads and around the room.

Ron hadn't been able to cast his Patronus since he came to this world, but in this moment, surrounded by friendly people who respected him and admired him, Ron felt truly happy.

In the end, no one talked about war, the sun getting low in the sky far before their festivities were over. In the night, Ron snuggled into his comfortable bed, animal pelts covering his body and thought that perhaps he could make this place into a new home, one where he wasn't poor, where he was revered for being who he was. A home where he wasn't compared to other people, where Ronald Weasley could make something of himself. He wasn't driven to be Head Boy or captain of the quidditch team any more, Ron wanted to be so much more.

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	9. Taking Council

**I Own Nothing of Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.**

The next morning Ron woke with the sun, and when he stepped out of his room ready for the day he was met with a servant, guiding him to the hall, similarly to yesterday. Ron wondered if being accompanied everywhere would be a regular thing, he certainly hoped not. As the young wizard passed through the castle, whispers would follow him. From curious guard to gossiping maids, eyes seemed to be attached to him every where he went. Was this how Harry had always felt, being the centre of attention? 'It couldn't be,' Ron thought, 'Harry always complained about the fame. This felt brilliant!'

Entering the breakfast hall, Ron found himself the last one up, everyone he'd met already chatting and eating happily.

"Ah, just the man. Ronald we are to have a war council meeting directly after breaking of fast." Edmure Tully said stoutly.

"And you want me to come?" Ron had never been included in any Order talks before, he was too young. Molly would just not have her teenage son talking about war.

"Well of course!"

"Can I come?!" Asked Arya excitedly. Ron just smiled while various people at the table shook their heads with varying levels of disapproval.

* * *

"Stannis is the rightful heir to the throne and king of Westeros therefore The North's support should be with him." Ned Stark said calmly but firmly.

"You trust Westeros, The North to a southerner again Ned? Bloody hell look what's happened to the country these passed years since Robert Baratheon, Gods be kind on his soul, began ruling. You want another Baratheon to take his place? I know he was your friend, Ned, but Robert wasn't meant to rule, why should his brother?" Replied Greatjon Umber powerfully, "I say the North should be taken into its own hands. Go back to the days when Northern kings ruled our lands and we dealt not with the politics of the south. The Starks bent the knee to the Targaryens, they're all gone now! Take back what is rightfully yours Ned! "

This had been going on for some time. Ron didn't understand the politics of this country, only the north thought the south was and the south thought the north savages. To be honest, Ron was bored. The teenager had always wanted to be a member of the order meetings but this wasn't battle tactics, this was all business.

Ned was acting like Dumbledore, a man who should be in charge and would do good being in charge but refused the power. He couldn't count the number of times is mum had ranted all throughout dinner about the selfishness of Dumbledore not taking charge. This was all going so slowly; it was pissing Ron off.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Who cares who's King right now? Isn't the important thing to remove the evil liars from power? Just take your forces, march to kings landing and take down the Lannisters."

"Ron the Lannisters have forces outside of kings landing. If we just march on Kings Landings then they will attack us from our rear and we'll have a war on two fronts. Besides, attacking on a castle is always in the defenders' favour."

"What's important is Tywin Lannister's forces are at Harrenhall. He could march upon us at any moment. And they have by far the larger force, Tywin is the richest man in the world and his daughter has control of the royal forces. We have Jaime, his heir, as prisoner. We should exchange him for their fealty and the crown." Offered Robb

"That traitor cannot be allowed to live." Ned all but growled, "The Kingslayer attacked myself, killed Jory and has an incestuous relationship with the queen among other heinous acts."

"Ned these are the lives of thousands of soldiers for one man." Catelyn tried to argue, "Surely you see exchanging him is the best course of action. We shall detain the bastards and Cersei Lannister, and the Kingslayer will have to live with his actions being common knowledge for the rest of his life, punishment enough I think."

"Hold on, where will Tywin's forces go if he's out of the picture?" asked Ron, curious.

The Blackfish frowned in thought, "Well I suppose that those who are completely loyal to the Lannisters will go back to Kings landing or Casterly Rock. Those who are fighting out of fear of Tywin would return to their lives before the war and avoid conflict. Or perhaps Tywin's brother Kevin will attempt to take his place as Lord and continue his fight."

"But, in general the opposing force would be less on an issue?"

"Well I couldn't say. Either way Ron, Tywin is protected by legions of armies and generals, assassination attempts are likely to fail."

"Let me at him, I'm sure I can take him on." Ron was powerful here. No one he will encounter will be able to block his magic so he just needs to have solid aim. Ron was unstoppable.

"You took Kings landing by surprise, Ron, but Tywin's army will be prepared for you. Do you really think you could get through all those men and kill him?" Ron's blood went cold.

"k-kill him? I'm not going to become a murderer! I was just going to stun him, capture him and take him back here has prisoner."

"You're-", Robb frowned, "You're still a green boy?" he seemed honestly confused.

"I've never killed anyone if that's what you're saying, am I'm not planning to start! My family raised me better than that!" the only death Ron has known in his life was Cedric Diggory. He was a great person who was killed by you-know-who and Ron was _not _planning on stooping to that level.

"Okay Ron, calm down." Catelyn's hands were on his arm.

"If that's his reaction to death then there's no way he's going to Harrenhall." Said Edmure to Blackfish quietly, who snorted in mirth.

"Either way, we should join forces with Stannis, and attempt convince Renly to do the same. Stannis is the rightful king. That is my final word on the matter." Ned said firmly.

"So current course of action is to meet with Stannis and Renly in hope of joining forces against the Lannisters, bend the knee to Stannis, and take Kings Landing for Stannis to rule over. I travel to Harrenhall and kidnap Tywin. "Ron recounted carefully.

"Ron, you're not going to Harrenhall."

"Why?" Ron called out aggressively, he could feel his ears getting hot. They all thought he was weak, that he couldn't handle capturing one muggle just because he had never seen death. He would prove them wrong.

"Because that's what you have been commanded!" The Blackfish yelled at him, visibly annoyed. Straight denying them wouldn't get him anywhere, Ron realised.

"Fine," Ron said through gritted teeth. "I won't."

"So it's decided. We'll attempt to contact the Baratheon brothers as soon as we can and hope to exchange Jaime to Tywin for Lannister fealty. Meeting adjourned." Said Robb with a sense of finality.

That night, after supper, Ron was met with Melisandre. "You are leaving tonight." She stated calmly.

"Not forever, I Just need to do something and I don't like them telling me what to do all the time. I never said I would follow them, I never said I would 'bend the knee' as they say, and yet they tell me what to do and treat me like an inferior. I'm stronger than all of them!" Ron ranted. "So I have to show them I'm strong and then I'll come back and everything will be okay." Ron may only be sixteen, but in this world sixteen-year-olds are adults. Robb is his age and yet everyone respects him and call him a leader. Ron just had to prove himself and then he would get the same respect.

"I will follow you anywhere, my lord." Said Melisandre to him respectfully.

"Thank you. Your loyalty means a lot to me," Ron said honestly. Her demeanour and trust made him feel like a proper Hero, like a knight. "I need to go to Harrenhall. My quest is to capture Tywin Lannister and release the innocents held there." He puffed up his chest and did his best Lockhart smile.

One hour later, after Ron and Melisandre had discretely collected supplies for a long journey, they said farewell to the idyllic castle.

* * *

The road was a quiet, lonely one. Unlike the journey to Riverrun, this journey had three fewer people and Melisandre was not the most talkative person that Ron had ever met. They would ride during the day in near silence, the only words spoken were from Ron awkwardly trying to fill it. In the night Ron would build a huge fire and Melisandre would stare into it until the wee hours of the morning. He was bored, but at least Harrenhall wasn't that far from where they were. During this time Ron did something a few months ago he could never imagine himself doing, he was practicing magic for fun.

Magic was always work, homework, a means to an end in daily life, but it was actually pretty cool. Ron performed all the magic he could in his endless free time, the only way to keep his sanity. Not just the magic he knew either, Ron attempted magic that he'd heard from 6th and 7th years, from his professors and his parents. He faced a lot of failure; he accidentally blew up rocks he wanted to turn into an owl, poisoned water he wanted to turn into wine. He failed completely at disillusionment.

He even spent hours and hours focussed, trying to cast silently and in a week all he could do was make a twig shakily rise in the air. Without words, magic seemed as difficult as it did in 1st year, it was incredibly frustrating. But Ron persisted and Melisandre watched.

The time passed slowly but eventually Ron and Melisandre reached the ruined castles. It was a strange thing to see, melted stone. The tops of the wall were smooth, black and uneven. The entire castle looked wrong and put Ron on edge, but Ron pushed his unease to the side and moved forward, sidling his horse up to the castle with Melisandre.

He had been thinking of this for weeks now, how he would breach the castle, but facing the immense walls he felt afraid. He could take down any person with one word, no fear of shields but it was still scary. There was the obvious fear of counter-attack, everyone he was fighting would have swords and bows, and yet Ron didn't feel apprehensive about that. More about what he was about to do. Attacking villains, or people who are about to hurt others is one thing, but a planned kidnapping seems dark.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts Ron scanned the battlements, looking for sparsely guarded areas. Coming to the base of one silently, Ron snaked his arm securely around Melisandre's narrow waist and held his wand the sky. "_Ascendio_." The two seemed to fly into the air, just higher than the castle walls and landed with a stumble on the top. Melisandre fell to her knees, a hand on the ground and glanced up at him.

"Perhaps some warning, my lord?"

"Sorry," he grinned at her and began glancing around at his surroundings.

There were guards in red evenly spaced along the battlements and patrolling the ground beneath them. Luckily no one had noticed them yet though that likely wasn't going to last. Pulling his cloak tighter around is red hair, Ron began making his way to the nearest tower, shooting down any guard that stood in his way with ease. He cast a _silencio _on himself and Melisandre. They couldn't speak to each other but at least no  
one would hear them coming.

'This is easy' Ron thought, wand back up his sleeve. Everyone was acting as if this siege would be impossible, but Ron was walking around this castle as if he owned it. The wizard edged along the wall of the castle, the red witch behind his trailing, making his way to the main building. He was nearly at the door when he heard a crack from behind him.

Turning, he felt something hit the base of his neck, then he felt  
cold and all he could see was the darkness.

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	10. The Tickler

**Disclaimer, I own nothing of Harry Potter or Game Of Thrones.**

Bound and uncomfortable, Ron groggily woke to a low lit, unfamiliar room.

"Good, you've finally awoken." Said a deep voice shortly. "Guard, bring me The Tickler."

The man who spoke was, like most other people Ron had seen at Harrenhall, dressed in red and gold. Although in this man the gold seemed real. He was balding and blond, his general demeanour reminding Ron greatly of Lucius Malfoy, from the finery to the sneer on his lips. This must be Tywin Lannister.

"The Tickler works for me, he's very good at getting information out of people, however, if you tell me what I want then he won't have to. Are you the man who attacked kings landing, stole away Eddard Stark and humiliated the Lannister name?"

"How d'you reckon I could do that?" Ron asked, playing dumb, "I'm hardly a man."

"Very true, most couldn't. however," Tywin picked up something from the table behind him, "I think this would explain it." His wand! Ron felt revolted to see it clasped in the evil man's hand.

"Ha! Is that a stick?"

"You are a sorcerer! It's the only explanation for how you snuck into this castle. Besides all the guards collapsed in the same way my nephew is said to. Don't want to admit it? Fine, I'm sure the tickler will loosen your lips."

A man entered the room. He didn't seem like much, quite regular looking to be honest, except for the strange bucket contraption and rat cage in either hands.

"Hello there boy, now why don't you tell me who you are." The Tickler placed the rat in the bucket and strapped it onto Ron's torso, then he toom a torch from the wall and placed it beneath the bucket. The rat began freaking out, and in turn Ron.

The ran began clawing and biting at Ron's torso, scraping away the fabric of his tunic and after that the skin of Ron's chest.

"Tell me who you are!" Cried the Tickler.

Ron knew he was going to die; Rats can bite through anything. It would bite its way right through his chest for sure. All Ron could hear was the squealing of the rat, its claws tapping on the bucket and the laughter of the Tickler.

Blood pumping quickly through Ron's ears, breath struggling to leave his mouth, all Ron could see was his wand. His salvation a meter away from him, in the hands on a grimacing Malfoy. Ron wouldn't let Malfoy beat him, he couldn't. Eyes on his wand, Ron saw it begin to get red. Shocked Malfoy dropped it to the ground where it skidded and flew into Ron's bounded hand.

"_Alohomora._" Ron yelled. His chains fell away and the rat fell to the ground, where it scurried off fearfully.

_"Stupify! Stupify!"_ the guard and Malfoy collapsed.

Angrier than Ron had ever felt, the young man turned his wand to The Tickler. "_Cruscio!_" Ron felt all his hatred towards the man in front of him flow into his wand. He felt relief and giddy without all the hatred, something similar to joy filled his heart instead, so much so he could barely see the crying screaming man, writhing in pain. Probably more pain than the hateful man could ever hope to cause.

Ron laughed, and then stopped. With one final cutting curse to the throat, the man in front of him was dead. Ron was so tired.

Now with a clear head, Ron levitated the unconscious Tywin behind of him, Ron made his way to the heavy wooden door and pulled it open. The young wizard came face to face with a black-haired boy about his age. Before Ron could do anything, the young man held up both his hands and fell to his knees.

"Please don't hurt me!" He cried. Unwilling to attack an unarmed, non-aggressive person Ron kept his wand up but didn't cast anything.

The boy looked up and saw the unconscious man floating behind him. "You killed him! You killed Tywin Lannister! Seven Hells, how did you do that?"

"He's not dead, just knocked out."

"Why let him live, I'd say kill him while you have the chance!" the boy shook his head slightly, "What am I thinking? He's floating! How is he floating!"

"Chill out man. I'm a wizard okay, relax. Now, are you gonna hurt me? Or do you wanna help me get out of here?"

With that, Ron and the new dark-haired boy hurried through the castle taking out hostile people as they went. The boy could handle himself rather well, he was built bigger than Goyle and could hit harder than Hagrid. He seemed shaky every time Ron used magic, but Ron knew he was very blunt and plain about it all so it couldn't be helped.

Ron was nearly at the exit when he guiltily remembered his loyal companion Melisandre. Throughout his journey through the ruined castle, Ron learned more about the boy beside his and his ordeal.

Gendry had set out to begin a new life in the Night's Watch when he was captured by Lannister soldiers and taken to Harrenhall. Here, every day the Tickler would torture people to death for information no one had. Until one day Tywin appeared and instead of watching people be tortured to death daily, Gendry worked his trade like a slave.

The guilt that Ron had slowly felt fill his body after what he did to the Tickler left him after he heard that story.

Also, a large portion of the people in this castle didn't like the Lannisters and didn't realise that there was another option. Magically raising his voice one again Ron bellowed, "MESSAGE TO ALL NON-LANNISTER SOLDIERS, RUN! GET OUT OF HERE WHILE YOU CAN! TYWIN LANNISTER IS GONE AND THE TICKLER'S DEAD SO DON'T DAWDLE."

Lowering his voice and coughing out the pain of the volume, Ron glanced around to see a shaking and terrified Gendry, hands over his ears, and back against the wall.

"Sorry about that man! Should have given some warning."

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU! FUCK I'VE GONE DEAF!" Sending a quick healing spell to the boy's ears, Ron grabbed the boy by the shoulders and dragged him on to the dungeons.

If Ron ever thought that the Hogwarts dungeons were dank and Snape looked like a mean bat, well he took it back once he passed through these halls. Cold, wet and moss seemed to emanate from the walls. It all oozed of dirtiness. Passing through, opening cages of innocent looking people, Ron trudged along until he found Melisandre.

Seeing him the strange woman stood, waited for him to open the prison door, and walked calmly out.

"Took your time, My Lord."

"I'm sorry, can we hurry up and leave?"

"Where is the object of your quest?"

"He's upstairs, let's go already."

And so, the three (four) left the dying castle, along with many other evacuating people. As Ron grabbed his horses, and Gendry found two more, the unlikely group left the castle, heading north to Riverrun. As they rode along, a few people took their rear, camped with them, asked Ron how he had saved them, what they should do now.

Ron said he was joining the Starks and so should they and so they went. The band grew to an immense size, half the survivors seeming to have joined the crew of people, and of all of them, Gendry was Ron's favourite.

The kind bastard was the only person Ron had met so far that actually acted his age. After a little transfiguration, Ron taught and played Gobstones with him. After a bit more he taught and played chess with him. Soon the boys would talk into the night about each other, about girls and about magic. According to Gendry, transfiguration outmatched charms in power, although the black-haired boy had never seen charms at its full power and display. Ron couldn't do it justice like he could with transfiguration.

Ron couldn't deny however, that while every person in the band having clean clothes and water was important, the fact that with ever rat captured, they had a new bowl or chalice was more impressive sounding, especially with the jangle it made as they trotted along.

Tywin was grouchy and annoying, often complaining about hiss ropes or how hungry he was. At times like those an angry person would hit him and shut him up. Ron turned a blind eye at moments like those

The rivers became more common as they went, and soon enough, the familiar image of Riverrun was in their sights. A cheer rang through the tired band and soon everyone was piling around to beautiful castle. In fact, there was plenty of space for everyone considering that there was no longer an army surrounding the castle.

Ron supposed going on his own renegade quest to kidnap Tywin wouldn't allow Ned and Robb to wait for him to come back. Didn't mean he wasn't a little upset about it.

Standing beneath the entrance of the castle, across the large moat, Ron yelled, "I am Ron Weasley. Will you let me into the castle?"

"Prove it!" replied a gruff voice.

One majestic explosion of sparks later and the drawbridge came down.

**A/N**

**Sorry this took so long guys, school got in the way for a long time but this is not an abandoned story. also some people may be upset about Tywin, but you can't expect him to beat a wizard, no matter how powerful he is.**

**Please Review.**


	11. Hammer Vs Sword

**Disclaimer: i do not own anything of Harry Potter or A Game of Thrones.**

Ron spent his days as a ward of the castle, honoured above all ,and it was the most boring thing he'd ever lived through. On the road he could focus on survival, in History of Magic lessons he knew he would be out by the end of the hour, he could keep his sanity. Here in this castle Ron was well fed and nurtured, and surrounded by people who, while willing to spend time with him had other things on their plates. He had very little he could focus on or strive towards.

Sansa would have tea and lemon cakes with him but only for an hour or so before the food was all eaten. She said it wasn't proper for him to spend time in her quarters without a reason, so he had to go when the food ran out.

Arya would fight with him and spend time with him, but by nature she was a person who enjoyed being on her own. Also, there was only so much time Ron was willing to entertain the little girl before he was tired. It felt like babysitting.

Catelyn worked hard keeping the household organised and all the other Starks had marched into battle leaving Ron alone. Gendry was the most entertaining person for Ron to live around, but he wasn't allowed in the castle proper because of his low birth and had to spend most of the day in the blacksmiths working for his bed and board.

Which left Ron alone in his big, beautiful room for several hours a day. He would have certainly gone mad if it wasn't for his magic. He cast and enchanted and charmed until everything in his room could dance or speak or explode on command. He went to the training ground and practice everything he had learned from his order of the phoenix meetings. Hermione would never let him live it down if she found out, but he even went to the library.

There wasn't a great amount of fiction in there, it seemed most fiction was expressed through songs instead of books, but the histories were entertaining enough to get him through the days. Most of all, the Targaryens were entertaining enough to get him through the days.

Immune to fire and friends with dragons, these people just seemed like they were magic. He hadn't ever heard of fire immune people, but he was bloody interested in it. Far more than the history of some king who died of gout 400 years ago, this was actually entertaining.

The dragons really made it for him. The incest kind of ruined Targaryens for Ron but the dragons bought it back. He'd seen five in his lifetime and all of them were awesome, it was impossible to not find them incredible and when Ron discovered that they became extinct over 300 years ago he was devastated, but he continued reading.

Ron realised the reason he spent so long in the library was the musky smell of books, the dust that blew into his face every time he opened one, the low-lit darkness. This place was Hermione; it was revising for summer exams; it was Ron and Harry trying to procrastinate or skive; it was his old life. It hurt how much the castle life reminded him of Hogwarts, if he was stranded in a modern muggle world maybe he would be happier, but Ron couldn't get enough of it.

There was also the added benefit that he was truly beginning to understand Westeros. The seasons, the wall, the kingdoms and monarchy. Ron got a grip on inheritance laws and the importance of Lords and Ladies to a society. He was right pleased with himself.

After spending a few days holed up in the library, Sansa came to join him, the location no longer being considered improper. She loved to explain to him the significance of all the songs, and Ron tried to convince her that books were superior because they were more substantial.

"Books can't be everywhere at once. If you enjoy a story and you want everyone to know about it, you need to make it short and sweet. How does the north spread their stories to Dorne? Through travelling singers, and you can't expect them to sing songs for hours."

"Ah see, wizards can duplicate books. If a wizard wanted to give a story to his mate in Dorne, he just copies it, apparates to Dorne and hand it to him."

"Apparate?" Ron wasn't surprised by the muggles' questions. Hermione always did her research, but Harry was hopeless and always required a small explanatory speech.

"To instantly travel across any distance without having to walk. Mind you, you have to have been there before."

Sansa seemed really excited by this, "Can you show me? Please!"

"Uh, no. Afraid I never reached that level of magic before coming here. Apparation is meant to be really hard." After losing his friends, family and everything Ron held dear, this was actually one of the things that pissed him off most. He was _so close_ to getting his apparation licence.

"Well can you copy something for me?"

"Again, slightly above my level." The geminio charm was again for sixth years. Honestly it seems like he would learn the coolest spells next year, but no.

"Either way, most people can't read but most people can hear, so songs are best."

Still, as much as it was entertaining to learn new things about Westeros and the Known World, Ron knew he needed to document what he knew already. It was boring, like revision, he created little glossaries of spells he knew and their effects. Some like geminio he knew but were out of his grasp and some like the killing curse were in his grasp, but he was unwilling to do. Mind you, after what he did to the Tickler…

Ron had improved over time with silent spells, incentive being to spook the people of the castle. At first it was silently lifting up Sansa's hair, making her scream, or knocking thing off tables and hats off heads, all the way to making suits of armour look possessed while remaining sat (with his wand underneath the table or up his long sleeve), looking as shocked as everyone else.

Unfortunately, Lady Stark eventually became quite annoyed and said if he wanted to do magic so much then it should be useful. Afterwards, Ron had to spend a few hours a day magically sharpening swords, cleaning or repairing various things. It was boring but gave his days more structures and purpose. It may seem like unfair retribution, but Ron received some silver for it, so it was a proper job.

Ron really enjoyed his time spent at Riverrun; he could see the physical change in the castle by him being there. The tapestries were brighter, the clothes were cleaner and seemed better made, people even have things Ron had always taken for granted like good mirrors and glass that's properly transparent.

Looking at himself in the mirror for the first time in what must have been months was very strange. The first thing he did was shave his face, the gruff not looking nearly as good as he had been imagining it had: The second was to, frankly, check himself out. Ron had always been quite gangly and skinny. His arms were too long and made him look like an orangutan, which wasn't great when matched with his red hair. The thickness of his hair also made his narrow head look tiny.

Now though, his arms were thicker, with wiry muscles lining them, making them seem less gangly. His skin had darkened from his long days in the summer sun, making his freckles seem like larger masses, but his hair had lightened in equal measure, giving his face appearance less contrast and making him seem more athletic.

Ron's hair had grown nearly to the length of his brother Bill's, so he took some leather cord and tied it back, liking the adventurer look it gave him. Donning his bright tunic and self-made trousers, without the strange fabric at the crotch, and thinking he looked quite regal, Ron gave himself one final once-over and left his room with a swagger.

The confidence in his gait, along with the Lockheart-esque grin on his face, the young wizard noticed some reaction from the ladies and maids that passed him on his way to the gardens.

Reaching the open ground of grass, Ron came face to face with the waiting child dressed in leathers not suiting her status.

"You're late," she said shortly, and Ron just smiled at her, "Oh, you think you look pretty now? Pick up a sword, let's go."

And so began another day of sword training with a nine-year-old, one of the weirdest things Ron now does on a regular basis. Neither of them was that good, Ron never having any formal training and Arya being a child, but they got comfortable with the swords and got stronger in their arms.

"What's this atrocious display I see before my eyes." Came the dramatic voice of a certain blacksmith, "You think you're a knight, Weasley?"

"You think you're a jester, Waters?"

"Shut up both of you! Stop distracting us, Gendry."

"Of course, Milady, my apologies for offending you Milady."

"I am NOT a Lady, now go away." She said petulantly.

"What if I want to fight? I made myself a new hammer and some fresh meat will be good for the both of you." The great lad lifting his hammer over onto his shoulder, simultaneously showing off the monstrous size of his creation and flexing his muscles. "Shouldn't be hard, not like I fought before."

"All right come over here then. Shove of Arya."

Gendry was right, his lack of practice of any sort really affected his battle but swinging a big heavy hammer at someone's head sure was scary. Ron, however, was immune to fear of pain of that sort by this time in his life. After having a humungous mountain troll swing a club at your head, a hammer is nothing. Ron ducked and weaved around the heavy swings, however, the slashes of his sword merely glanced off of the sturdy hammer.

Gendry lifted the great creation high in the air and tried to slam it down on Ron's shoulder, only for the leaner boy to bend out of the way. The hammer landed with a thud on the packed earth and made a large dent in the ground. Biceps bulging with the effort, Gendry lift the hammer once again. Ron, seeing his chance, slashed at the boy's slow-moving arms, causing the black-haired boy to wince in pain and drop the hammer, it falling again with a great thud.

Not wasting any time, Ron ran at the distracted boy and threw all of his weight at Gendry's chest causing the bastard to fall on the ground with a sword hovering over his throat.

"And that's without magic", snarked Ron.

"A little practice and I'll become something to reckon with," replied Gendry, a wistful, faraway look in his eye.

"Well done Ron!", cried Arya from the side lines, "I thought he would break something for sure."

Gendry seemed geared up to respond, only to be cut off by a loud horn sounding off in the distance. They all looked over to see an army marching towards Riverrun, Stark banner blowing proudly in the wind.

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	12. Knighthood

A *Thump, *Thump, *THUMP* steadily shook the room as hundreds slammed their cups and tankards on the nearest surface. The massive ceiling didn't steal the noise but caused a reverberating echo. Deafening cheers nearly overcame these thundering vibrations and Ron only added to it, his cheers and slams and strong as the next man. Eddard Stark strode, with incredible strength and purpose through the great hall, his limp only visible to those who looked for it, and the premature grey on his head only making him look more like a veteran.

The entourage of hulking strong men at his back were cheering with the rest of them, save for Robb Stark who seemed to be imitating his father's solemn face and still back. It certainly suited him; the boy Ron used to relate to now looked like a man.

Lord Stark stopped in front of his massive chair, held up his hand and the room instantly hushed. The crowd waited with bated breath.

"The Starks rode South... and we were VICTORIOUS!"

The room erupted. Voice all around Ron were jubilant and enthusiastic, more than any quidditch win or house cup victory. _This_, Ron thought, _this is what true fulfilment is'_. Ron felt drunk on the victory and the ale which people were shoving into his hands. His head was getting dizzy and the room was too loud, but Ron was fulfilled.

"THE NORTH!" The young wizard bellowed out. "THE NORTH!"

He was vaguely aware of someone kissing him and getting slapped on the back by some friendly hands, but Ron could notice. When Ned held up his hand again, he could feel his head clear. He could feel the distracted around him focus again. He could feel the room shift with one movement from one man and Ron wanted that.

"But the Starks were not alone!" Ned continued, "Thousands were needed to bring down the Lannisters. Thousands died so that we could live in a kingdom lead by the honourable. Robert Baratheon's true family and heir, Stannis First of his Name will lead us into a new era of light and strength. Winter is coming but the North will go into the darkness unafraid because we are mighty!"

"And the Lord of Light will guide you", a voice spoke softly in his ear. Ron ignored it, too focussed on the hero in front of him.

"Endrew of Greywaters Watch come forward. Your bravery and heroism fighting for Westeros is known. You are a man of honour above many deserve to be recognised as such and as a member of the Riverland army who joined our cause, you deserve a title to befit your honourable nature. Ser Rodrick would you honour this man?"

"Aye my lord. Do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?

"I swear", man responded, trying to seem cool and collected.

"Rise Ser Endrew of Greywaters Watch.

This went on for some time.

Many it seemed deserved honour after the war, Ron really wasn't interested in all their stories, he became bored of it all and took gulps of his ale only to pass the time. His head felt light and the world grew blurry, but Ron enjoyed the dull to his senses.

Man, after man were called to the front, it became so boring and monotonous, Ron barely realised his name had been called.

"Ronald Weasley, come forward." The young man staggered to his feet, the ground seeming so far beneath him, his steps caused his to fly across the room. Wow, he was fast wasn't he. Kneeling heavily onto the ground, Ron tried very hard to focus on the Lord in front of him.

"Ronald Weasley is not a well-known name, but it should be. This man protected my family more than most out of no loyalty to the north or any person, but out of the goodness of his heart. He rescued by family from Kings landing and guided us safely north. Without Ronald, my daughters and I wouldn't be standing here now, and I wouldn't be able to stand at all. He ignored by command to avoid the might of Tywin Lannister, only to cut him down like grass. He is unaffected by the cold; he is not afraid of the long night." Ron could vaguely hear people cheering but blocked them out, not slipping over right now was very important.

"He deserves a name to remember, which is why I am granting the holdings of the Stronghold of the North, Moat Cailin. A proper title is needed to go with the name. Ser Rodrick, will you honour this man?", the gruff man approached him and a massive sword was placed gently on Ron's shoulder.

"Do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?

"I do."

"Rise Ser Ronald Weasley of Moat Cailin." The sword was moved to his other shoulder and then lifted entirely. Rising to his feet careful not to fall on his face, Ron turned to the cheering crowd.

Many were honoured before him and many were honoured after, but Ron didn't mind. The night flew by in a blur of Ale and dancing and Ron felt truly satisfied.

He was a _Knight._

* * *

Moat Cailin it seemed was more of a ruin than Harrenhall and was probably only given to Ron so he could have holdings and a good excuse for a title. He wasn't complaining but he was excited to get a castle of his own. Winterfell would have to do for now.

Life seemed to switch back into a level of normal. Sansa and Arya could be seen fighting in the halls, Robb and Theon would be seen fighting on the field and Ron could be found spending his time with the boisterous Gendry. The young blacksmith had really become one of Ron's favourites to be around, the black-haired boy seeming like the only guy in the castle to act like a teenager. He had crushes and acne and dreams beyond his current station. Robb and Theon, it seemed became very serious and adult-like after war, a shame really. Gendry still feared the Lords and Ladies of the castle, Catelyn most of all, but Ron wasn't like them. Ron was a nobody who became a somebody.

But even with friendly faces all around and a comfortable situation, Ron grew restless and bored. Melisandre was the same. His most loyal and beautiful follower was by his side always, but she too seemed to grow restless. He would catch her intense stare being cast toward the horizon and her time Infront of the flames increasing with every passing moment. She stayed with him though and he was grateful, Melisandre had become a rock in his life. A pleasant constant and reminder that he wasn't truly alone in this world. Magic kept him sane. The normalcy of it all was very comforting in this foreign world.

"Let the Lord of light guide you. What do you see in the flames?"

Sometimes when Ron looked at fire, he could see right through them. Ron would see mountains rise, armies fall and dragons fly. Other times, Ron just hurt his eyes.

"What do you see?", he responded calmly the best way to distract a diviner is to have them talk about what they see in their flames and smoke and crystal balls.

"We must go north." That shocked Ron, he wasn't used to getting such a clear response from the Red Witch.

"Why? Winterfell is safe and the holdings further North are too small to be all that interesting."

"The Wall. It needs your strength."

**A/N**

**Sorry this one took so long, schools been so time-consuming I haven't had time to write but I haven't forgotten about this story. Thanks for the continued support.**

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	13. Wall

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Game of thrones.**

Travelling by horse is far slower and more uncomfortable than broom riding, far more pungent too. Everything was pungent in Westeros other than the food. No the food was bland and dry, forcing you to drink more of the ale, especially that found at the various inns and pubs Ron passed on his way to the wall.

Travelling was one of the worst things about this world for Ron. He was a boy who his whole life the simple act of traveling a hundred miles could be done with a bit of powder and a puff of smoke.

The people as well weren't great, always starving and poor, and spent all their days doing back breaking work they had no time to talk to each other and be happy. Spend too much time on being happy and they were hungry again.

Money made life easier, Ron decided. Hermione was a well-off girl, for example, and she had a great relationship with her family, plenty of friends and good chance in life.

Without the problem of worrying about how to feed oneself, life's possibilities opened up and one could focus their attention on more interesting matters.

Ron finally understood why the lords and ladies called them 'small folk'.

At Least because they were always working, the small folk weren't bored. Ron was bored all day every day for weeks.

Journeys were longer up north because the cold, thick snow slowed horses and they had to take more breaks. Everything seemed to slow down and die in the cold. Ron missed the warmth of summer. At least in Britain there was vitality to people in the cold, a Christmas to look forward to and an excuse to sit by the fire with Hermione close to him.

He missed her as well. More than he used to be able to admit; he thought about her all the time.

Her hair, her know it all comments. Everytime he heard a sexist comment or hear about slavery or even meet a servant, he would think of her. She would tear this country apart with her strong opinions and clever mind and she would look amazing doing it.

He wondered if she was still alive, he could never be certain.

Thinking about it was getting easier.

Smiling at a group of children on his horse, Ron thought about the life he might have had. It may or may not have happened but Ron would have liked to marry Hermione, Harry his best man and Ginny a bridesmaid.

After a few years of a good marriage and great sex, he would want children, not as many as his parents but Ron was good with kids, he would have been a good dad.

He would never see the millennium. The next century was in 2 years but the millennium was different, It signalled a change from the 1000 years of old ideas. Ron would never escape old ideas no matter how hard he tried.

He used to play quidditch, used to learn new magic everyday, used to imagine living his whole life without killing a person. He could still see the Tickler's eyes when he shut his own. The flash of green emptiness haunted him.

He would never-

"Your mind is clouded, my lord. Clear it and let the Lord of Light guide you. Don't doubt him."

"'My Knight' you mean Mel." Cheeked Gendry from the horse next to him. The young blacksmith followed Ron out of Winterfell and Ron was very glad. Gendry made the cold and suffering seem fun, having a loyal friend to follow him to the end of the Earth was wonderful and familiar.

Having a loyal sycophant was strange and annoying.

Melisandre wouldn't tell him what happened at The Wall that so desperately needs his help. Why Ron wasn't allowed to live a nice boring life in Winterfell and why he just had to save everyone. But to be honest, the concept of a 700 ft wall of pure ice built in the medieval times was enough to get him there without incentive so he didnt complain.

No he left the complaining to Gendry.

"I left a lovely warm castle with good pay and a friendly forge for weeks of a horse under my frozen balls. I used to see pretty Sansa Stark everyday, now all I see is your freckled mug. Once a week at Winterfell my master would give me a chicken pie for a meal. Bread is all I've eaten for weeks. Im a growing boy! I need my meat gods be damned!"

Ron knew Gendry wasn't truly upset, otherwise he wouldn't be smiling all the time, swinging his hammer like Ron twisted his wand. Gendry was seeing more than he'd ever seen, travelled further than he's ever gone. Ron was frustrated by the slow travel, but for Gendry this was like flying away.

Winterfell, apart from the people there; was beginning to become a dull place to be. Arya, Sansa and Robb were fun people to spend your days around but without a war to fight; Ron didn't know what was holding him there.

The old, evil, is incest King was dead. The wicked Queen Cersei was dead and, according to the warriors who disposed of her, not before she carved his name into chunks of wood and hacked them apart. Just hearing that story told Ron how unhinged the woman was, beyond the fact that she was in love with her brother.

It seemed without Tywin Lannister they didn't stand a chance. Without the fear he could create, the Baratheon army was overwhelming and took Kings Landing with little effort. Killing every member of the Lannister family went with the win, but hearing of the innocent children made Ron sick to his stomach.

"Point me Last Hearth," Ron said clearly, his precious wand flat on his hand.

It twisted slightly and the Wizard changed his course. They came to a small peak and in the distance Ron saw all he'd wanted to see for a long time.

The trail and woods led down to a sturdy looking castle, if small, and behind it another mile stood one of the more impressive sights Ron had witnessed in his life, Westeros or other.

Its light blue, greyish colour was calming to witness, and Ron sighed, staring now lazily at the great mass of ice, stretching as far wide as his eyes could see. Even with magic, building this wall was a lifetime of work. Aquamenti, Frigio, Aquamenti, Frigio over and over for a lifetime would work. Nothing else Ron could speak of could do it better, save an ancient or dark magic that dumbledore could pull out when necessary. A spell Ron could now never learn his whole life.

The cold seemed to seep into Ron's bones.

A slap on his shoulder rocked the redhead out of his thoughts.

"Well fuck, you don't see that everyday do you." Was all Gendry needed to say before he rode down the peak onto their destination.

"We are nearing, Azor Ahai, the Lord of Light has guided us well." Was all Melisandre needed to say.

"I guided us well. Lord of Light did fuck all." Ron mutterered.

Last Hearth was a pleasant stay after weeks of frozen travel, but it seemed all the interesting people who belonged there were marching with the Starks, as they were all that Ron heard about from the members of the castle in his time there. GreatJon this, SmallJon that. Did you hear the story about Whoresbane and Crowfood? Ron had met plenty of interesting people in his life, and absolutely none of them were here.

He left quickly.

Before he knew it, the young wisard was at the gate of Castle Black. The boy knew he had to be stern and serious with these people, the hardest, toughest men in Westeros, but he just couldn't get that Weird Sisters song out of his head.

Absent-mindedly bobbing his head to the silent music, Ron looked at the massive gate and wondered if there was a doorbell anywhere.

Tired, hungry quite cranky from the ear worm in his head. Ron impatiently brandished his wand, and did his signature sonorus - apparently people wrote songs about him, and his voice was a key part of many.

Hair as red as the fire he sets,

Eyes as blue as the sky.

Forget about the Lannisters and their debts,

Weasley can make you cry.

His voice like thunder and hand so bright,

Light follows him where he goes.

Saviour of the Starks, he led their flight,

Beware of the yell he throws.

Ron really tried to not let it go to his head, the thought of all the taverns that sing to tune as they drink. Not the first song ever written about him but the most flattering for sure.

The tune couldn't hold a candle to the songs he was used to though. Nothing to rock his head or dance to. Maybe he could spend his life as a bard, plagarising modern song, there was no desth in that career right? In Westeros you couldn't be sure.

Putting on his best 'knight' voice, Ron bellowed at unnatural volume, "I, Ser Ronald, seek entry to castle black."

All he could hear in response was a faint, "What the bloody fuck was that? A giant?" A man in all black stuck his head out, looked at them with suspicion, then disappeared from view.

The rumbling of cranking wooden gears filled Ron's ears and a mighty gate lowered to the ground. A singular watch man strode out, a gruff expression on his wrinkled face.

"Why do you want to enter Castle Black," he began with more suspicion, "Want to take the black?"

The thought horrified Ron to be honest. He respected these guys for their effort but giving up girls to spend life in a wasteland? No thank you.

"No, no, no. We are just here to help out for a bit. Temp work. I'm a very skilled guy, I can probably do a lot of good." There was derision in the man's eyes now.

"You want to join for a _bit_? This is a lifelong station, mate, and we don't work with women either." He spat staring at Melisandre with lust and hatred.

"Oi, aren't you here to protect the realm? We are cold and could do with some protection, let us in _please_." The plea was deadpan and the man's eyes narrowed, annoyed, but he lifted his arm in direction of the gate and strode purposefully inward.

Ron knew he wanted to lead them in, but horses were faster than the old sod so Ron quickly overtook him.

One more tunnel and one more gate and Ron was in the courtyard of Castle Black. And Merlin, did the young wizard see room for improvement.

**A/N:**

**Sorry sorry sorry for my silence with this story. I want to get it right and my studies are really using up all my time. It not abandoned obviously but to be honest dont expect another chapter till summer. **

**I have not forgotten about this, I love the support I've received and you guys. I know there wasn't much action in the chapter, but don't worry, there's much more coming. **

**Please Review,**

S


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